100 Oneshot Challenge (Shannon Silver's)
by Lydz Bright
Summary: These are the stories I've done for Shannon Silver's 100 Oneshot Challenge!
1. The Cat with Strange Eyes

**The Cat with strange Eyes**

It was night. There was a full-moon, its pale light flooding the forest, slipping through the thick canopy, illuminating the tangled undergrowth. A pale, slender white she-cat padded through the ferns, ducking under branches, keeping close to the trees. Whiteflower's fur seemed to glow with an inner light, and although she was completely silent, her white pelt was a dead giveaway. And soon, she would just be dead.

Hawkstar, the ThunderClan leader, had told her—and everyone else in the Clan—repeatedly to stay in the camp during the night. There was a killer about, silent, deadly. None had lived to tell the tale once he had struck his fateful victim. And the cats almost always disappeared at night. After taking a walk, going to the dirtplace, nighttime hunting, they all vanished. Without a trace. That is, until the warriors found their Clanmates' bodies stowed away beneath a bush or whatnot.

But there was one clue… The last Gathering they had discussed this rapidly growing dilemma, Splashstar, RiverClan's leader, told of her apprentice, Riverpaw, and how she, during a night stroll along the river, had almost been killed by this shadowy figure. Apparently, the blue-gray apprentice had exceptionally sharp senses and strong instincts, and she had _sensed_someone in the tree-line, watching her. Riverpaw had spun around, just in time to see the cat. Splashstar had told of the strange eyes: one eye was piercing amber, pale and like daggers, in some way. The other was a unique blue-green. It seemed to flicker in color: blue, gray, green, gray, green, blue. And then Riverpaw had run. She had flung herself into the fast-flowing river, and escaped home, traumatized by the shock and the fact that she had been a whisker from death.

Despite all the warnings, the deaths, everything, Whiteflower felt compelled to leave the camp during the full-moon. There was no Gathering tonight. All the Clans feared the shadowy murderer, and Petalstar of WindClan had been first to back out, cutting off the full-moon tradition, fearing for the lives of her Clanmates. Splashstar had agreed next. Hawkstar, seeing the reason of staying in camp and not tromping through the undergrowth with the strange-eyed cat stalking them, gave in. And only then did ShadowClan's leader, Graystar, agree. After all, Whiteflower had said dryly, there was no point going to a Gathering when no other Clan was present.

Whiteflower threaded through the ferns, wishing the season was wet enough so there was some mud she could roll in, to cover her glowing white fur. She would have brought her sister, Ivyshine, with her, but the silver tabby was terrified of losing another Clanmate, and if Whiteflower had told her littermate what she was going to do, Ivyshine would've woken the entire camp just to make sure that her sister stayed where it was safe.

Ivyshine…. Ivyshine was not as easily terror-stricken as she was now before. At least, before the killing of Graycloud, their mother, this is. That, one of the non-night deaths, was during an early dawn patrol, when Graycloud had strayed away from her Clanmates, to get a drink at the stream. Whiteflower shook herself. That was why she wanted to get out tonight. _Partly the reason,_ she reprimanded herself silently. No, it was the complete reason that she came out tonight just to visit Graycloud's grave. No, it was to visit Nightflight of ShadowClan. Whiteflower knew it was practically asking for a death sentence for both her and her mate, but they had been able to see each other for a moon. Her tail flicked back and forth, disturbing the surrounding foliage, before Whiteflower remembered to keep a low profile. Despite her outwards look of rash bravery and the hard shell around her heart, she was quaking like a leaf inside, out of fear.

What if the mysterious killer caught her? Terrifying. What if Nightflight was killed just because of her? That thought made her vision cloud over, her stomach to tighten, bile rising in her throat. Whiteflower walked quicker, her paws now making audible sounds on the grass. _Faster, faster._ She passed the Sky Oak, her fear now making her heart thump, for her to jump at every little noise. Oh, why had she thought of all those depressing memories? Whiteflower stumbled to a stop by a small "puddle" by the stream. She eagerly drank, trying to wash away the sour taste in her mouth. The leaves in the tree rustled above her head, and she jerked her head up, stumbling away from the maple. Nothing. It was just her nerves. But the rustling foliage seemed to sing, _Back, back. Go back. Back, back. Go back._

But Whiteflower had gone too far to turn away. Nightflight was waiting for her. She could not disappoint him. The white warrior stood by the puddle, trying to calm her breathing, to no avail. Whiteflower knew she probably sounded like an elephant tromping through the forest. Her fear had taken over, making her run without trying to be silent, to breath, like she wasn't stalking through the forest, trying not to be heard. _Nightflight. What if he's de—hurt?_ Whiteflower quickly corrected herself. "I can't think of that. It may come true," she breathed. "No."

The ThunderClan warrior glanced around, realized she was almost to the Lightning Birch. _So far._ It was a miracle. A bit of her old dry humor threaded through her mind, and then vanished just as quickly as a new thought slammed into her, literally making her stumble. That could mean the shadowy cat was stalking Nightflight! Whiteflower swallowed, then broke into a hasty run, flying through the trees, no longer worried about being silent. As she neared the ShadowClan border, the white she-cat slowed, heart hammering. And there he was! Sitting beside a pine tree, eyes closed, the moon behind him, so he was thrown in shadow. "N-nightflight!" Whiteflower burst out, her paws crunching across the grass.

Then she froze. The tom's eyes opened. They were not Nightflight's warm, brilliant green. Whiteflower wanted to yowl. One eye was piercing amber, pale and like daggers, in some way. The other was a unique blue-green. It seemed to flicker in color: blue, green, gray, green, gray blue. It was _him._  
Whiteflower turned to run, but the killer was upon her. His massive paws pinned her down with ease, and his claws glinted in the sunlight. "Mistake,' he breathed. "Mistake to run, to even leave your precious camp." The white she-cat struggled to say something, gasping for breath. "Remember me," the killer meowed, sneering cruelly. "When you meet Nightflight in your precious StarClan." And then there was a cold, pinching feeling. Whiteflower blinked, feeling sluggish. The ground beneath her was wet, the killer leaping away, vanishing into the undergrowth. Confused, the white warrior rolled over to look at the moon. _The cat with strange eyes…_ And her eyes closed as a strange sleepiness over took her. Whiteflower no longer felt fear. She sighed, and gave way to the crowding blackness.


	2. We Meet and Part

Sparrow was friendless. He had been cast out of his Clan before he had been given the chance to take the title of a warrior, sneered and laughed at as he was driven out of ShadowClan territory. The small, ragged brown tabby was never allowed to go back, never to even show his face to a ShadowClan warrior, or any Clan cat for that matter. Jaggedstar had never mentioned that he was not to contact _any_ Clan cat, but Sparrow took the malicious look in his former leader's eye that he was to avoid the Clans at all costs. And not to mention the threat that Jaggedstar had broadcasted to some of the loners and rogues that anyone who associated with him would suffer the consequences.

The tabby tom had nothing really wrong with him. He was small, admittedly, with long fur slightly curled at the edges, tufted ears and a tasseled tail. In fact, he had been the runt of the litter, and teased because of it in the nursery. As it was, Sparrow was timid, unsure of himself, a practically useless fighter as Boneclaw, the deputy, had put it. But he also had good qualities, the qualities of a good, loyal warrior. Even though he was timid, he was unwaveringly loyal, a budding expert at strategy, and always seemed to be two pawsteps ahead of his former Clanmates, although he had never seen the exile coming. It had hit Sparrow—Sparrowpaw then—like a hammer blow, knocking the air out of him, crushing his soul in half. He had no idea why his Clanmates loathed him quite so much.

There was another reason why Jaggedstar hated him, why Boneclaw despised him, why even his own littermates, Hawkeyes and Mothflight, avoided him. Sparrow always had flashbacks at the worst time possible. Something around him would remind him of a particularily vivid memory, and he would be gone. Just like that. A candle spluttering and dying out, dropping like his string had been clipped. Once, he had been climbing a tree, supervised by his mentor, Berryflower, when he'd suddenly frozen and fallen like a stone. A particularily memorable time was when Sparrow had collapsed like deadweight in the middle of fight with a fox. Swiftwind had risked his life to save the apprentice's, receiving a deep scar on his shoulder, inflicted the fox's teeth while he was yanking Sparrowpaw from under the fox's muzzle.

But now Sparrow was a loner. Cast out by his family, his Clan, and even the other loners kept away from the runty brown tom with several viscous scars on his face and back. He was alone.

Sparrow trudged along the brook, fighting a mental war against the encroaching memories that crowded the back of his mind. He paused by a boulder, leaping up onto it, his short legs flailing as he wriggled up the last inch or so, feeling humiliated even though no one around. But nothing would compare to the time when even his father had laughed at—_No! Not now…_ Sparrow could feel the early memory pressing in on him, enveloping his mind, crushing everything else out. The last feeling was of slipping off the boulder, tumbling dangerously close to the water.

_"Mother, why do they hate me so much? I didn't do anything wrong!"_

_"It's just that you're a little small. But you'll show them, my little warrior, won't you?"_

_"He'll never be a true warrior! Look how small he is; Sparrowkit won't be able to squish a mouse if he tried!" _

_"Stoneclaw! How—what—how could you? He's your own kit! Your son! You can't—can't just—"_

_"Get real, Lilypebble! Look how small he is, how he shirks from me when I stare at him, how everyone laughs at him!"_

_"He's your kit. You're supposed to stand up for him!"_

_"Forget it. He's not my son. It's almost six moons since Sparrowkit was born; he's still as small as a kit that's three moons old! Not to mention those sleeping spells he goes into."_

_"It's not my fault! Father, why do you hate me too?"_

Cold water slapped Sparrow's face, and he jerked from his flashback before it was done, finding himself lying on the sandy pebbles, staring into the green eyes of a pale gray tom.

"Hey! My name's Breaker. You were lying unconscious here beneath this boulder; I thought I'd help. Hope you didn't mind me splashing you with a bit of water," the gray tom meowed, eyes wide and friendly.

Sparrow blinked. He was unaccustomed to being treated in such a warm manner. All his life, he had dealt with cold mannerisms and shirking from those who excluded him. And this was a stranger, no less! "Erm, hi," he stammered, blinking the water out of his eyes, still shaken and half-immersed in that horrible memory. "I'm Sparrow. Are you a loner too?"

Breaker helped him up, and when Sparrow finally rubbed the water out of his eyes, he noticed that the strange tom had the build of a RiverClan warrior. Stocky, broad-shouldered, sleek fur like duck feathers, long legs and thick fur, and Breaker's eyes were even the color of sea foam. "Do I know you?"

The loner hesitated. "I don't think so. I've been a loner all my life," he said cautiously. "My mother was a rogue. Do you need help? I've been living as a loner all my life in this area, so I'd be glad to help you."

Sparrow stared into those sea-green eyes. He had changed the subject quickly, so Breaker obviously disliked talking about his past. But now the small brown tabby was infinitely curious. _I know him… He looks familiar, but not exactly him.._ Then it hit him. The broad-shouldered pale gray tabby deputy of RiverClan! He must be Fogheart's son.

"How did you know?" Breaker was staring at him warily. Sparrow frowned. _I must've spoken outloud._ Berating himself, Sparrow mumbled, "I was a Clan cat too, until recently."

The pale gray tom stiffened and looked Sparrow over. The tufty brown tom could almost see the gears turning in his head._StarClan, no. He's going to find out that I'm Sparrowpaw! And then—_ "You're Sparrowpaw," Breaker blurted out. "Fogheart told me about you. He said that you were the, um," the loner broke off, looking embarrassed.

"The ShadowClan failure?" Sparrow blurted out, and immediately tried to choke back his words. Other loners had treated him well before too, at least until they heard about ShadowClan's hatred of him. Then they disappeared from his life, sometimes quickly, other times slowly fading away until they were gone all together. Breaker was the first who had actually offered friendship….

Sparrow looked up at the pale gray tom hopefully, almost close to begging for him to stay. How he craved company, and friendship without the threat of ShadowClan looming over their heads. He flinched when he saw how uncomfortable Breaker looked. A Clan could stand against ShadowClan's threat to harm anyone who associated with Sparrow, but a single cat? Something close to that reasoning was probably going through Breaker's mind. The tufty brown tom felt queasy, a sick pit of dread in his stomach. He knew what was coming.

"Um," Breaker mumbled. "Well, something to the sort." The broad-shouldered tom stood, looking increasingly uncomfortable.  
Sparrow felt like wilting. It was always this way…

"I guess, er, I'll see you later," the loner meowed, trying to speak louder than a mutter. Sparrow was tempted to ask him, "Are you lying?" But his weak heart tripped at the thought of making the friendly cat even more uneasy. Sparrow hated making anyone uncomfortable in the least. "Bye Sparrow." Breaker turned and bounded over the banks of the river quickly disappearing into the trees.  
The small, tufty brown tom ducked his head, feeling sorrow pulse through him. It was always this way, always this way…. "We meet," he whispered, "and then we part. As always."


	3. Forgotten Memories

**Forgotten Memories**

The long-grass swayed in the wind, rippling like a dark, green ocean, the faint sound of whispering pervading the air. A bubbling brook tumbled through the meadow, carving a curving path edged with rocks. The stream merged into a sparkling pool at the end of the clearing, where the water backed against an impossibly high rock wall that reached for the stars. A beautiful waterfall fell, glowing like a silver sash, producing an almost soothing rumble that backed up the melody of the grass and the brook.

It was the home of Neverblue, the place where she was born and raised with her littermates Hawkeyes and Eversky, before that fateful night.

* * *

It was well past moonhigh, in the middle of Thunder Moon, which was what the Twolegs called July. Neverblue and Eversky were still wide awake, watching Hawkeyes trying to catch a fish in the turbulent brook.

Whereas the two sisters often enjoyed splashing the shallows and scooping the elusive trout from the water, Hawkeyes preferred the musty forest prey and the crunch of leaves beneath his paws. He took after the unknown father, who their mother, Echocry, called Sunblaze, a "warrior" from a place called ThunderClan. Neverblue had never seen him, nor had any of her littermates. They had never known the protective gaze of a father, the patience in his eyes as he taught his kits how to fight and hunt. They had only known the loving, pervasive mother who hovered over their shoulder and prevented them from doing anything even vaguely dangerous.

Thus developed their rebellious nature and sneaky personality.

Neverblue had always laughed as she watched her brother attempting to catch the fish she herself scooped out so easily. And she laughed now, making her clear aqua eyes shine with an inner glow. Her voice was clear and melodic, adding to the omnipresent song of their secret haven. She leaned forward, her mew raised teasingly, "Come on, Hawk, when you see one of them, just grab it!"

The lean gray tom narrowed his eyes warningly at her, the amusement in his eyes giving his emotions away. Hawkeyes knew this was the thousandths time his sisters had made him try to catch the slippery creatures in the water, and he also knew this wouldn't be the last. "I'm too tired to try again," he meowed, groaning with a clear air of exaggeration.

"Lazy bum!" Eversky meowed, leaping at Hawkeyes. He was half-expecting it, but it didn't prepare him for the black she-cat's powerful leap. He staggered, off-balance, and Neverblue darted in from the side, pushing him into the river.

There was a gigantic splash as Hawkeyes tipped into the water, creating an even bigger racket as he flailed around, fighting the weight of the water that dragged at his thick fur. He was perfectly capable of swimming of course; Hawkeyes just enjoyed amusing his little sisters.

As Neverblue leaned back, her eyes dancing with laughter, whiskers twitching at the amusing spectacle, a shadow moved in the corner of her eye. It was so completely unexpected, so out of place and sudden that the three young cats had no time to even react.

There was a cry of pain from Eversky.

And then there was a roar of anger from Hawkeyes as he surged up the stony bank.

Heavy weight slammed into Neverblue as she was struggling to take in the scene, pinning her down, claws pinching nerves.  
Her vision dulled at the edges, a numb feeling in her body.

There was another yowl of pain, this time from Hawkeyes. Eversky was silent now, and then so was her brother.

The shadows moved around, shoving the three littermates apart. There was no sign of Echocry, even though she must've heard the yowling here.  
"We're all done. Time to go," announced a soft, slightly edged voice. It was a _familiar_ voice. Neverblue struggled to turn toward the sound. Her ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton; all the sounds were muffled.

Paws clamped around her shoulders as she shifted an inch, claws piercing Neverblue's sleek silver fur. "Don't move. Or you'll just suffer more." She _definitely_ knew that voice. It was a voice she'd heard since… since….

A blow slammed into her head, shattering her train of thought. The last thing Neverblue saw before sinking into unconsciousness was the brilliant, smoky blue eyes of her mother.

* * *

Neverblue sulkily padded through the misty forest, the trees lost in the swirling fog. She had tried climbing one of them once, going up, up, up, up, but it never seemed to end. When she'd finally looked down, Hawkeyes was staring up at her, but he was smaller than a mouse. The trunk still seemed to slide on and disappear into the mist, going on forever and ever.

Her claws ached, her legs were sore, and her aqua eyes were hollow and dim. She hadn't remembered anything before waking up in a cave in this slimy forest, lying next to her two littermates, in the middle of Hunter's Moon, which Twolegs called October. Neverblue frowned. She didn't even know why she called what other cats here called "moons" individual names.

"Neverblue." The meow was harsh, commanding, almost quiet, but it carried clearly. The slender silver tabby scowled. Out of all the cats here, she disliked Claw the most. He was an old, silver-muzzled tom, yet he was still shockingly fast and strong. The broad-shouldered black-and-white tom also took special interest in making Hawkeyes' life miserable, which made Neverblue despise him to even a greater degree.

"What are you doing?" Claw stalked out from the shadows, his eyes narrowed. "I hope you're not hoping to escape this place. It's impossible, and not favored upon."

Neverblue gritted her teeth. He was also the one who told her that the three littermates had fallen into a coma, causing them to lose their previous memories. Claw insisted that they had lived here all their lives, and Echocry had been raised here as well. Privately, she thought that even a kit would see the lie in the patchy story he weaved.

"Why would I want to leave the place _I was raised in?_" she growled, stressing the last four words. Her claws itched in their sheaths, and Neverblue longed to cleave this old flea-bag in half. Without waiting for an answer, she turned her back and raced away blindly into the fog.

Neverblue hated this place, and she couldn't even imagine living in this stinky old woods her whole life. It had been three moons since she had woken up from her "coma." Even Hawkeyes, the cat who enjoyed stalking through the undergrowth, wrinkled his nose at the idea of living here. Eversky and Neverblue especially itched to leave. They rarely saw Echocry, and the woods also seemed to go on forever. Neverblue had thought she'd seen the end of this miserable place, but guards seemed to be waiting behind every tree.

As if she had summoned her, Shade leaped out from behind an oak. "Go back," the black she-cat meowed curtly. "Now." Without waiting for an answer, Shade shoved her, bundling her away. Neverblue hissed. What was wrong with the guard this time? Shade had always been curt, but she was especially flat this time. "What's your problem?!" The silver she-cat stumbled as Shade hurried her faster.

"Never go back there!" Shade snarled, and gave Neverblue one last shove before whipping back around into the fog. Neverblue stopped and stared after the retreating figure. What was so special about here? She glanced around her surroundings, realizing that she had never been to this area before. The trees actually seemed to be regular oaks and maples now, and the fog was thinner. _Escape?_ Her heart quickened at the idea. For some reason, Neverblue knew she used to live in a place much better than Eternal Forest, which was the grand name Claw called these woods.

"Neverblue?" _That voice._ It was muffled by the fog, familiar, lilting like a song in some way. Neverblue stumbled as a vision entered her mind, a glimpse of tall, swaying green grass. _That voice. That sound. Shadows._ "Time to go." _Those words. Memories._ Another flash, the sound of laughter, the gurgling of a brook. Echocry padded toward her, materializing from the alabaster-colored fog. Her brilliant, smoky blue eyes appeared first. _Those eyes!_ "I remember," Neverblue gasped.

* * *

"I don't understand." Eversky stared at her sister, whose aqua eyes were glowing, some life finally coming back to that hollow gaze. The black she-cat frowned. _Her eyes have always been dark like that, right?_

Neverblue paced in front of her, whipping back to stare at Hawkeyes who was blinking, nonplussed, beside Eversky. "Can't you remember that night?" she insisted. "The shadows? Hawkeyes trying to fish and falling into the river after we pushed him?" Eversky frowned. She leaned forward and stared into her sister's eyes, searching her face. _She's telling the truth._ "How do you know? According to Claw, we're not supposed to remember anything after our coma."

Hawkeyes snorted derisively. "Do you actually think Claw is telling the truth? Why would we three all have a coma at the same time, wake up at around the same time, and losing practically all our memories?"

Eversky conceded the point. She didn't really want to live here anyways. "We…used to live at a haven?" Neverblue nodded enthusiastically, looking relieved that her littermates were finally beginning to believe her. Eversky shifted, sifting through her memories, slamming into a dead end, three moons ago, in the middle of Thunder Moon. She clawed mentally at the barrier, struggling to think back even day past the time when she'd woken up beside Hawkeyes.

"I think the way that Echocry approached me today was a dead-ringer for my memories. Claw's going to be furious," Neverblue whispered.

Hawkeyes blinked. "We're not going to say anything. That'll be stupid. So, when are we going to tell Echocry?"

"You're not telling her." It was not a question. Eversky stared at Neverblue. "She's our mother! You're going to leave her here at the mercy of Claw?" _How could you?_

"Shut up!" Neverblue spat, bristling, her claws sinking into the moss beneath her paws. "And lower your voice! I have a perfectly good reason why I'm planning an escape that doesn't involve Echocry." She flexed her claws, baring her teeth, ears flat to her head, her eyes blazing with fiery anger. "Echocry is part of the reason of our forgotten memories!"


End file.
